Records of a Twisted Man
by TTY7
Summary: "Here's a little about me. My hobby is murder. By keeping this diary, my hope is to chronicle all of the cool things I get to try out. Even now I could talk about the headless corpse behind me, but why give you such entertainment so early on when there are much better things to come? That would spoil the fun!" (Based on Prompt #22 from SwordofallCreation's Fate of the Unknown)


A/N: So...here's a quick backstory on how this came to be. I was scrolling through the Fate/Stay Night archives and happened to find a little story of challenges called Fate of the Unknown by SwordofallCreation. Within were countless challenges for fanfiction author's such as myself to take on. There were so many amazing ideas for stories within that I was overwhelmed with inspiration. There were a good ten challenges I wanted to claim for myself in the wake of such brilliant ideas. Since the author of this work wants his ideas to be taken and used by the fanfiction community, I decided to go ahead and take one. (With his permission of course.)

Here's the horrible thing though. Of all the prompts I could have picked, I chose the prompt entitled "Records of a Twisted Man"

And the reason I chose this prompt was because of two things. The first reason is simple. I want to see if I can actually write a good horror story. The second reason...Johnny Yong Bosch.

If I ever meet that man, I'm punching him in the throat straight away for this. His voice is a beautiful curse on my ears and thanks to this crush I have on said voice, I end up liking every character that man portrays, even when one of those characters is the most despicable, wretched piece of fictional filth to ever be created in all of anime's history. My friend SuperNova23 is convinced I have problems. For the first time, I'm thinking he might be right. Oh well, the show must go on.

So below is my take on "Records of a Twisted Man" as presented by SwordofallCreation, author of Fate of the Unknown. (Please note that he is going to get a beating for this too as well as a slice a gratitude pie. Haha!)

Warning: This story is rated **M** for a reason. There's going to be some heavy blood and gore in this, though I will try to keep it tame so that it isn't too crazy. Also, please note that this story is in no way going to redeem this horrible character. I may have a crush on Johnny's voice, but that can only go so far. This is also my first time writing anything for the Fate series so...if Ryunosuke's character is not quite right or something is off...let me know.

Regular font= Third person narrative  
 _Italics=_ Journal entry

If you aren't turned off to the mere idea of reading a story about the demon that is Ryunosuke Uryuu, then by all means, enjoy the following fanfiction.

* * *

A series of grotesque sloshing sounds fills the small basement as a man around twenty-five continues to ram the broken leg of a chair against the skull of his newest victim. Though normally he would laugh at the sights befalling his eyes, on this early morning the man works in silence, almost as if he were conducting a quiet, scientific study. He continues with his violent rampage for a few minutes, oblivious to the crimson puddle spreading against the bamboo flooring of his dimly lit basement and the droplets of the substance that have splattered against his pale face. After a few more minutes, the man ceases his movements abruptly. His soulless charcoal eyes appraise the mashed up pieces of brain matter and loose eyeballs rolling about in the sea of blood for another couple of minutes.

Placing a bloodied hand to his hip, the man tips his head to the left inquisitively, mentally going through a checklist of past crimes he had committed in a similar manner. Yes, it would seem a previous hypothesis of his had been correct. He was beginning to subconsciously repeat himself. That was certainly no good. If he continued on like this, his hobby would become a boring, monotonous routine like everything else he did.

With this thought in mind, Ryunosuke Uryuu allows the broken, bloodied chair leg to slip from his stained fingers. The object hits the floor with a soft clang that reverberates throughout the moderately sized basement as he moves toward a small, ornate mahogany desk sitting in the corner of the room. A few papers with notes and drawings lay scattered across the face of the table. His bloody fingers pushes things aside to create more space as he searches for something specific within the mess. A long-suffering sigh of hopelessness escapes him during his search. The mere thought that his wonderful little hobby would turn into a cycle of redundancy was depressing, but he had expected something like this to happen at some point, thus the reason for purchasing the basic three hundred page spiral notebook he now held in his hand last week. While not a man with much foresight, Ryunosuke could always sense the point in time when things grew stale.

Perhaps through chronicling his daily adventures he could overcome the boredom threatening to descend upon his favorite pastime.

Taking a moment to wipe off some of the blood on his hands with a nearby hand towel, the red-head reaches a pale hand toward an antique, sterling silver quill pen vial and its corresponding pen. At one time the liquid within the vial had been the customary black ink, but having used up all its contents some time ago, Ryunosuke had re-filled it with a small amount of blood from one of his previous victims. To get the right consistency, he often had to mix the red substance with a little oil while also making sure to place the vial portion of his set in the mini fridge on the floor adjacent to his desk once he was through writing. The process was a bit tedious, but Rynosuke preferred the metallic stench of blood to the nasty chemical smell of toxic ink. Plus, the color stood out better against the stark, white pages he usually wrote on.

"Now, let's see if this will help," the man states aloud, stretching his arms behind his head before opening the notebook a few seconds later. Blank, lined pages meet his gaze and for a long moment, Ryunosuke isn't sure where to begin. He couldn't say he was much of a writer. Sure, he wrote constantly with all his notes and drawings, but in terms of documenting events in time...well that seemed like a new thing altogether.

In the wake of impending boredom, Ryunosuke figured it was worth a try, so with a shrug of indifference he dips his quill pen into the vial of blood and begins to write.

 _Entry 1: December 19th, 1988_

No, no, no. That wouldn't do at all. Way too generic of a title for what was going to be the coolest set of literature mankind would ever know. To even consider such a basic title was preposterous not to mention incriminating. Ryunosuke may not have been afraid of being captured or even going to jail for the rest of his days, but he wasn't exactly trying to land himself in prison either. Incarceration (based on knowledge gained from television and movies) was a mundane and pitiful existence, not to mention completely uncool.

He needed to chronicle his adventures yes, but he had to do so without giving the police a trail should this notebook randomly end up in a detective's lap.

Having made up his mind, Ryunosuke dips his pen in the blood again, crosses out the first line in his entry and starts over.

 _The Chronicles of Ryunosuke Uryuu_

Arching an eyebrow, the twisted man raises a hand to his head while training a glare toward the words. "No, that won't do either. That's been done before...and it's still pretty incriminating."

Once more, Ryunosuke crosses out his previous words.

 _The Time I Killed..._

Ryunosuke didn't bother to finish that one. If he started his entries that way, he'd end up with a repeating title and that would get very old very quickly.

This writing business wasn't going to be as easy as he had first anticipated.

Just as he starts to attempt another title, the shrill sound of the alarm clock sitting on a small round table a distance behind him fills the room. A silent curse escapes him in that moment, but he quickly regains composure. He has to pay rent, so work comes first.

Despite this fact, Ryunosuke allows the alarm to continue ringing as he rips the page he'd been working on out of the notebook. After tearing it to shreds, he dips his pen into the vial of blood one more time, then begins to write without a thought for how he wanted to title his entries. That part would come in time.

 _So yeah, this is my little record of my cool experiments. Because if I forget something, then wouldn't repeating the same thing over and over be boring?_

 _Here's a little about me. My hobby is murder. I prefer women and little kids for victims because they're so easy to control and manipulate. Women in particular are especially effortless when desperate for a man's attention, not that I mind. I'll give them all the attention they want before I have my fun. Kids are usually easy too as long as I give them some candy. Ah, to be young, naïve, and hungry for sweets. Steers them wrong every time._

 _Anyway, by keeping this diary, my hope is to chronicle all of the cool things I get to try out._

 _Even now I could talk about the headless corpse behind me, but why give you such entertainment so early on when there are much better things to come? That would spoil the fun!_

 _As for who I am...it would be no problem for me to tell you honestly, but let's say I accidentally leave this behind somewhere after a kill and someone finds it. I rather not make myself easy prey for cops, so I'll keep my identity secret. I'm no idiot. I've been killing things for almost half my life and not once have I ever been caught. My intentions are to stay under the radar in that regard._

 _Still, should someone else end up with this journal, congratulations. You've really found a treasure of awesomeness!_

 _For now, that's all I need to say._

Ryunosuke smiles after re-reading his words. "Yep, this will do just fine." Having said this, Ryunosuke rises up from his chair and turns to the still ringing clock. His smile widens as he presses his fingers against the snooze button.

Today was going to be a great day.

Of course, before his day can officially begin, he needs to dispose of the body resting at his feet.

* * *

A/N: And I'm going to end the first chapter here. How was that guys? Hopefully not too shabby.

Special thanks to SwordofallCreation for allowing the use of his ideas. To see the original clip of this prompt, check out Fate of the Unknown: Chapter 81.

Thanks for reading! If you feel so inclined, please leave a review for me to read. The feedback is always helpful. Constructive criticism is also welcomed. (Like seriously, if there are grammar issues up there or anything else out of whack, please let me know so I can fix it.)

Discalimer: (Cause I forgot to write it earlier) I do not own anything from Fate/Zero, Stay Night, or any of the other Fate series. The original idea for this story belongs to SwordofallCreation who graciously allowed me to use his prompt as a base for this work.


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